


of phoenixes and ashes

by tobus (asoldandtrueasthesky)



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-08-09 04:31:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7786897
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asoldandtrueasthesky/pseuds/tobus





	of phoenixes and ashes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flipflop_diva](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flipflop_diva/gifts).



 

Casey Novak storms into the suspect’s house with no regard for protocol, introductions or chains of command. Olivia seems to be hoping that if she glares at her hard enough she’ll disappear and Alex Cabot will return, like a phoenix from the ashes. Unfortunately for her, it doesn’t bother Casey in the slightest.

She’s never been very good at having friends or being likable and it hasn’t bothered her since high school. It’s not that she’s shy or withdrawn or anything, in contrast she’s the sort who are usually popular- sporty, self-assured, pretty. But she’s too self-assured, cold without realising it and too immersed in her goals to do anything but blow off attempts at friendliness. She guards herself too well to let anyone in.

She has a job to do, her own way of doing it and if it brushes a few detectives up the wrong way, so what?

But then she finds the girl when no one else did, while Stabler was building up to an attempted murder charge and Olivia running on blind adrenaline. And they look at her different, like she’s One of Them. She’s never really had that before.

 

-

 

She’d always thought unconsciousness- being beaten unconscious- would be like in fiction, an ominous curtain of blackness or something like that. At the very least, she thought she’d know about it.

Instead there’s nothing but an absence of memory, an absence of everything. She wakes in a hospital bed, disorientated and delirious, with no idea why no one would let her move- she was fine, wasn’t she?

Then the painkillers or morphine or whatever wears off and fuck, everything hurts.

The next times she wakes Olivia’s there.

Casey can’t move, or rather, not without pain flooding through her nervous system, her throat’s dry and sore, like she’s been asleep for far longer than a night and it’s clear from the look on Olivia’s face- a strange mix of worry, pity and anger, one that she’s seen too many times, that Something’s Happened.

The words tumble out of her mouth, disjointed, _was I raped?_

She breaks down at the reply, half in relief and half in horror.

Olivia moves closer, speaking hollow words of comfort. Soon, she starts asking the questions that need to be asked but Casey has no answers.

She’s never felt more vulnerable, more exposed but she’s glad it’s Olivia.

 

-

 

It’s late enough that it could be considered early morning but Casey still has files to look through. Olivia’s hovering and trying to pretend she isn’t.

“It’s fine,” Casey says, finally, trying not to notice how Olivia’s gaze lingers on her fading bruises, “you can go home.”

Olivia doesn’t leave. She visibly hesitates. “We could go and get coffee. Together, this time.”

Reading the files has become a losing battle, her vision blurring with tiredness at each line so she agrees. There’ll be other sleepless nights in which to cram work in.

They find an open café, no easy feat and Olivia pays, ignoring her objections. Casey takes it with a thanks but before the coffee can even begin to cool down, Olivia speaks.  

“I shouldn’t have left you.”

“Olivia-“

“It was late, the delivery was suspicious. I shouldn’t have left.”  

“It’s not like you were letting me walk home on my own at 1am, I was in the DA’s office. Besides,” she says, trying to keep the conversation light, “it was in the noble pursuit of cheap coffee.”

Olivia looks away. “I left because of the flowers. I think I felt jealous.”

Casey stares. It’s 3am and it’s cold and all they have is crappy coffee and she has a black eye and this is not how she’d wanted to have this conversation. She’s not sure she wants to have it at all. Even being close friends feels like uncharted territory for her- she’d had a fling or two at college, nothing serious, except for Charlie and those memories still weigh heavily on her mind.

Olivia withdraws almost instantly, she can almost see the barriers go back up in her eyes. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have bothered you with that, especially not now. I guess all the softball and fishing made me think… never rely on stereotypes, right?” she said with a weak smile.

Casey laughs. And then stops, remembering laughter isn’t generally the desired response to confessions of attraction. “Your, er, intuition is functioning perfectly, Olivia. And, honestly, I was wishing the flowers were from you.”

The bruises fade, the smiles don’t.

 

-

 

“Casey,” Olivia says, trying too hard to sound casual, “have you ever thought about kids?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Having them, you mean?”

 “There are options, you know.

“Well, we’re not exactly model candidates for adoption agencies.” Casey says, careful to keep her reply practical. “And even if we were a perfect heterosexual married couple, we’re hardly ever home. We barely have time for each other.”

Casey likes kids, she’s fiercely protective of them, Olivia even more so but the thought of actually having one is terrifying. It’s being responsible for another life and she’s seen all too well what happen when families go wrong. Still, just for a second, she can’t help but imagine them married with a knitted together family of kids from broken homes, Casey nagging them about their homework and Olivia being too soft on them.

“Yeah. I guess it’s not practical.”

Casey moves closer to her on the couch and Olivia leans in to the touch so they’re almost cuddling.

“I had this same conversation with Alex, once.” Olivia says, her voice low and solemn, almost reverent, the way anyone would talk of the dead.

“What did she say?”

“She didn’t want to come out. It does rather ruin a chance at political career.”

“That would make family life a bit of a struggle.”

“Yeah.” Olivia agrees but there’s still something wistful about her.

“This is because of the stolen embryos, I suppose?” Now that’s a sentence she didn’t think she’d ever say.

Olivia nods. “The squad kept asking. Not that they have any right to ask me stuff like that, it’s just- it got me thinking.”

“Liv, are you lonely?” Olivia had never had much of a family, much of anyone, and she clings to every chance at one, even if she has to risk prison for it.  And while Casey can’t exactly criticise the way she throws herself into her work without being hypocritical, it can’t be healthy.

“I have you.” Olivia says, though it isn’t really an answer.

Casey knows she wants what Elliot has but knows she’s too scared of getting it wrong, of her demons becoming infectious to actually take it. Unless she had encouragement, unless she could share the responsibility with someone. She almost says something like, _maybe we should look in to it,_ but Casey knows deep down their hypothetical family will never get beyond this conversation. They’re both too independent, too sure they don’t need anyone else, too ready for danger to feel safe with anyone, to settle down. At least she’s self-aware.

“Want to get a takeaway?” Casey asks instead.

 

-

 

Casey bites back a yawn. She’s crashing at Olivia’s place again- they really should move in together, it’s been three years, but both of them are instinctively wary of making it official, of admitting it’s real.

Olivia’s sitting on the bed but something about her is wrong- she seems too stiff, almost frozen, oblivious to her presence. She gently puts her arm around her shoulders and Olivia flinches away from the touch.

Casey backs off immediately but Olivia’s already snapped out of wherever she was.  “Sorry. I don’t know what got into me.”

“Liv, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. But I’ll probably just sleep tonight.”

Casey sits next to her on the bed, careful to leave some distance between them. “You haven’t been sleeping.”

“When do I ever? I’ve got two rape homicides, three cases of child abuse, a potential serial rapist and possible infanticide on my plate.”

“But it’s not the cases this time, is it? I know it isn’t.” Casey insists, ploughing ahead without hesitation. The truth has to be better than the drifting Olivia’s been doing, blocking out everyone trying to help her. “I’ve heard your nightmares.” 

Olivia stares at her for several seconds before suddenly relenting. “It’s not just the cases.”

“You should see someone. You must know all the best rape crisis counsellors by now.”

She freezes. “I wasn’t raped.”  

“Neither was I.”

“You didn’t go counselling.”

“I was offered it. Free, on behalf of New York City- least they could do, really, their office security is worse than the Courthouse steps. I probably should have taken it. I still feel sick when I see flowers.”

”You dealt with it and you were actually hurt. I should too. I’ve dealt with everything else without needing a shrink.”

Casey raised an eyebrow. “How many victims have said the same thing to you? That man did hurt you and being powerless, being at the mercy of one violent man is a whole other ballgame to shootings, especially since you’re always one of the people with guns.”

Olivia can’t seem to find a reply, instead getting into her bed. Eventually she mutters, “I should never argue with you when you’re right. I’ll make an appointment, if you let me get some sleep.”

Casey grins and settles down next to her. “No objections, your honour.” 

 

-

 

“What the hell were you thinking?”

It feels like an accusation. Olivia catches the bad men and Casey locks them away. That’s how it’s meant to work.

Her chin juts up defiantly. “That girl is dead. Melinda and I were her only voice. That meant more than continuing with some farce of a trial.”

Olivia’s anger subsides as quickly as it had appeared and she deflates. Her temper is like a forest fire, fierce and deadly but quickly burning itself out. Now she just looks tired, heavy with the knowledge that he’d gotten away, that some of them would always get away. “Yeah. I know.”

“I guess this is goodbye.” Casey says before Olivia can give some empty promise of _we’ll keep in touch_ or _this doesn’t change anything_. It changes everything. She’s seen what happens when someone leaves the squad. It’s like falling out of orbit. Even Alex, returned from the dead, talks with her more often than Olivia. She doesn’t blame her. The job is all consuming. It had to be.

“Yeah.” Olivia says, something wistful in her tone. But she says nothing more, once again putting the job ahead of everything, especially her happiness. Sometimes Casey wonders if Olivia’s trying to atone for something, for being born, for one half of her genome. She probably needs more counselling but Casey won’t be around to nag her into it. “What will you do?”

“Prepare for some hearings of my own, I suppose. I’ll have to beg for the mercy of the Bar.” She says, her light tone betraying none of her nerves. She doesn’t know what she’ll do if she gets disbarred, she’s never been one for back up plans. “I’ll be splitting petty hairs while you’re fighting the good fight.”

“It’s not petty. It’s your career.”

Casey sighs, finally betraying some of her weariness. “I know. There’s always a case that breaks you, isn’t there?” 

Olivia nods and turns away. “I wonder what mine will be.”


End file.
